


From the Bar Room to the Bedpost

by drowsyfantasy



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Crossdressing, Frottage, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, Public Hand Jobs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-05 03:47:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14608620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drowsyfantasy/pseuds/drowsyfantasy
Summary: Prince Kael'thas Sunstrider is an absolute brat, and Rommath knows this. However, he's still got his responsibilities, and he has to look after the annoying asshole, and keep his adventures safe and secret from the king. Updates weekends.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shinyforce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinyforce/gifts).



Right now, the most generous thing one could say about the evening was that at least the volume of music wasn’t so loud that his brain was going to start leaking out of his ears.

Rommath wasn’t sure anything else could possibly salvage such a terrible night.

Prince Kael’thas Sunstrider, only son-and-heir to the throne, had decided that _this_ year, he would be in to indie bands. Tonight’s genre was somewhere between grunge and glam, and the young prince was wearing the local band’s t-shirt and a grubby pair of jeans that Rommath didn’t want to even _think_ about going near.

Not that the outfit Kael had made _him_ wear was anything he wanted to be seen in public with.

To go as incognito as possible, Rommath was all dolled up, in a sparkling red cut-off shirt and black leather miniskirt, black tight fishnets and open-toed matching red shoes. Where Kael had found shoes in his size he would never know; perhaps they were enchanted. Whatever. It didn’t matter. He’d done his own enchantments to make them feel solid enough to walk in (stiletto heels were Kael’thas’ favourites but they made Rommath feel like he was going to break an ankle) and not rub against his heels, and as he leaned back against the rail of the bar and sipped his drink, he kept a close eye on his prince out there in the middle of the dance floor.

Kael’thas was grinding on some random girl in a tutu, and Rommath rolled his eyes. That boy would fuck anything that so much as batted an eyelash at him, and the king _hated_ it, especially when Kael’thas had announced that He Was Bisexual, and Very Much Into Boys As Well, whereupon Anasterian had broken a very large and delicate vase in rage, much to the prince’s amusement.

Rommath turned around when the bartender offered to refresh his drink, and he happily let the young elf fill his cup before turning back and -

Kael was gone.

In a moment of frustration and embarrassment, Rommath put down his glass and stalked out onto the floor, looking for his prince. The king didn’t know about these little unauthorized outings, and if anything happened during one of them, his head would be on a pike before sunrise. _Where did you go, you little brat?_

He made it across the club and was about to turn around when a familiar voice breathed into his ear: “There’s my pretty girlfriend.”

“I'm not your girlfriend, highness,” Rommath snapped coldly, turning about to face him. Kael stank of alcohol but wasn’t drunk yet, still mostly in control of himself and cocky as hell. “If you can’t behave yourself, we’re going _home_ , whether you like it or not!”

“Oh, don’t do that in public…” Kael moaned and rolled his eyes, flopping forward onto Rommath’s front, forcing him back against the wall. He staggered a little but regained his balance quickly, glaring down at the blond head on his chest. “You can’t call me that. We’re undercover, remember? Call me Kael.”

“Oh right, like that’s any less conspicuous.” he pushed at Kael’s head. “Get off me, you fool.”

“Mmm, no.” he moved, but not in the direction that Rommath was planning. Instead, he slipped upwards against his sweaty body, hot mouth coming to rest on his neck, hands on Rommath’s hips. “I’m gonna stay with my girl for a while. I like it here.”

“I’m not a girl, and I’m not your girlfriend!” Rommath protested, wriggling. The heat in the club was already oppressive enough without the extra added body heat of his intoxicated prince. The young man reeked of sweat and cheap beer, and the various perfumes and colognes of the others on the dance floor. The cornucopia of weird smells made his lip curl.

“Yeah, you are.” He bit, bit softly, on the side of Rommath’s throat and his eyes went wide. _What in the name of-_ was that a hand he felt under his skirt?! Oh, this was _not_ happening! Kael was _not_ playing this game with _him_! “You’re wet like a girl, too…” the hand had slid between his thighs. The wetness was from being trapped in too-tight panties - well, more like a thong that kept his privates in place whenever he took a step, something to keep the fishnets from rubbing against his balls - and the leather skirt that made him sweat like a stuck pig.

“Get your hand out of there. _Right now._ ” Rommath hissed. Kael’thas only chuckled and nipped him again, his hand coming up to palm his cock through the thin fabric of the panties. He made an uncomfortable noise, then pulled them to one side as Rommath tried to squirm out of his way.

“Mmm, _no_.” was that - _he was_! His prince had fisted his cock and he was - oh. _Ohh._ For someone who’d only been (overtly) dating boys six months, Kael’thas had learned quickly how to work another man’s cock. Rommath’s knees wobbled and he leaned back against the wall to stay upright. Kael took this as a sign of encouragement and kept going, his warm, sweaty palm slick against his cock, hot and hard and working him into a quick frenzy. That warm, wet mouth on his throat kept nipping and nibbling and sucking away, making him dizzy with want and pleasure.

_No, he wasn’t supposed to like this! He wasn’t supposed to want this!_ The king was going to _murder_ him if he found out. Rommath had been a boyhood friend, but also an advisor to the prince, someone who was supposed to keep him safe and _well_ out of trouble. Not much use here, with his head back against the wall and his eyes closed and so much heat in his lower belly he felt as though he were about to burst into flames.

“You’re either my girlfriend, or my _whore_ ,” Kael’thas purred, biting the bottom of Rommath’s ear, squeeze-stroking his cock, “but maybe that’s what you _wanted_ to be?” he does something with his hand, a twist or a jerk or something, but it absolutely undoes Rommath, and he comes quickly, embarrassingly quickly, hips jerking forward and pumping his cum all over Kael’s hand, getting them even more slick and sticky.

“You made a mess…” he wiped his hand on the inside of one of his thighs, uselessly wet by now, and wrapped a strong arm around Rommath’s waist to steady him. “So wet for me, Rom…”

“W-we should go _home_ , Kael!” Rommath hissed, trying to sound intimidating, but it was too breathy and airy to be anything other than an invitation. His prince, on the other hand, just smirked and dragged him onto the dance floor, and then past the dance floor, and up to the stage.

The crowd was really getting into the song, and no-one noticed when Kael flopped Rommath over the lip of the stage, belly-down and ass in the air, and spread his legs. The crowd pushed tight around them, pulsing to the music, and as Rommath tried to at least brace himself for what was about to happen - surely it wasn’t? - he managed to lock eyes with the drummer. The elf was tall, another blond, this one with platinum hair tied back in a long ponytail. The shimmering was hypnotic.

And then he felt the heat between his legs grow.

_What is he_ doing _back there!?_

He understood in a moment. Kael’thas had undone his jeans and was fucking the insides of his sweaty, slick thighs, fishnets and all. _For all to see!_ No one was looking their way, but Rommath squeezed his eyes tight. _How humiliating!_ To be used like this, by his prince, like a common whore. The word made his whole body burn, but even more shameful, he began to respond, pushing back when Kael pushed forward, squeezing his thighs together, excited by the grunts and groans, animal and masculine and primal, in his ear.

Rommath hadn’t realized how close Kael was too, until he felt him stutter, felt the hot sticky mess grow once more, as his prince wrapped his arms around Rommath’s waist and held him there, until he’d finished.

“Okay. _Now_ we can go home,” he purred, still breathless. “Hope I didn’t ruin your make-up.”

“I’ve sweated most of it off by now,” Rommath wobbled to his feet once more, both of them wavering on their feet. Kael had at least had the decency to zip himself up again, though they were unmistakably stinking like sex. “Ugh,”  he looked at his arms, “I’ve got lipstick down the back of this one from where you pushed me down…”

“Well, put more on, fix it.” Kael’thas slapped Rommath’s ass as they staggered across the floor towards the exit. “Put more lipstick on. I want you to leave marks on my dick.”

“Oh, I’ll leave a mark on your dick all right!”

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Once they had made it out the door of the club and into a back alley, Rommath quickly used a spell to send them back to the palace, appearing in one of the prince’s antechambers. A cursory glance around told him they were alone and hadn’t set off any perimeter alarms (unknown spellcasters couldn’t even port in, but there were still breaches of security from time to time).

Kael’thas was draped across his shoulder and was no great help as Rommath struggled across the hardwood floor in his stilettos, finally getting to kick them off when he got to the main bathroom. “We’re having a shower, because, gross.” he wrinkled his nose at the smell coming off both of them: cheap beer, sweat, sex, and that scent that’s always found in an old bar, whatever’s seeped into the wood. “If you want me to not burn your clothes, take them off _now_ and put them in the hamper.”

The prince whined nonverbally but did as he was told, peeling off his disgusting mess and dumping everything in a bin marked for laundering. Rommath didn’t bother preserving any of his; he tossed them in the shower stall and with a flick of his wrist they had burned to ash.

“Aww, I liked you in that top…” Kael continued to whine as Rommath turned the taps on and saw to it that it drew an appropriate temperature. “I could see your nipples right through it!”

“Charming.” Rommath wrinkled his nose, not looking at the blond brat next to him who was _still_ annoyingly handsy, even though they had gotten naked together for purely utilitarian reasons. They were showering together to save time and not arouse too much suspicion. “Right, it’s ready. Get in.”

“You get in first. I wanna watch your ass move as you walk.”

Rommath growled in his chest and shoved Kael in before stepping inside the palatial shower chamber and drawing the glass door shut. He had meant to start scrubbing down right away, but the hot water running over his hair and face and chest just felt so _nice_ that he found himself neatly paralyzed for a moment, sighing with pleasure.

It did not last. He opened his eyes to spot Kael on his knees and for a moment he was so blissed out by the hot water that he was about to ask what he was doing down there, before he spotted the prince’s hands.

“It’s not fair, you’re bigger than me,” Kael’thas pouted as he palmed Rommath’s flaccid cock and gave it a few experimental tugs.

“I’m older than you, you twit, now get off me, I’m going to wash my hair.” he reached stubbornly for the shampoo, even as he felt his body start to lazily respond to his prince’s touches. Refusing to let himself be carried off again, he poured a dollop of it into his hands and began to vigorously work it into his locks.

Kael, however, was not put off by the apparent disregard that Rommath was tossing his way, and continued. Rom did his best to convince himself it was just hot water flowing over his body from the shower when Kael put his mouth on his dick, but when he started to suck, his traitorous knees wobbled a little.

“Get off,” Rommath ordered, though his voice was not nearly as steady this time, and it sounded too much like the other thing to mean for Kael’thas to stop. He was rinsing his hair, forming a suffocating black wet curtain and the weight of it made it difficult to move quickly enough with his hands to push his prince away.

There was no verbal response, but an oral one nonetheless, as Kael swallowed round him and pushed deeper, and Rommath muttered something to himself before sighing heavily and resigning himself to it. _Fine, whatever._ The prince was idiotically stubborn and if he really wanted something in his mouth, better him than some random boy from the club who’d get the wrong idea about Kael’thas.

He wasn’t half-bad at it, anyway.

Rommath wasn’t public about his sexual history and he had had lovers of varying genders in the past, but he didn’t count Kael among them, despite the frantic mashing earlier in the evening. Their relationship was counsel to the king-to-be, an advisor, perhaps a mentor. Certainly someone who was supposed to keep the young prince in check. Still, as he looked down at the honey-blond head bobbing between his thighs, he couldn’t help but admire the prince’s ability and tenacity. He cast his mind back to earlier in the evening and the platinum beauty on the stage. Despite the strange music from the guitarist, the drummer had been tight, well-muscled and looked like a man who’d been through enough to let him be an adult. When he looked down again, he imagined lighter hair, drawn back into a high-tail, and he fisted it, both Kael and not-Kael, that mystery drummer, and started fucking his mouth.

Kael’thas had clearly not expected this level of participation from his personal assistant, and rapidly began to choke before shoving at Rommath’s hips and breaking off to breathe. Rommath let go, looking down expectantly, before speaking.

“Well, if you’ve changed your mind about apologizing to me for earlier tonight, then stay still and I’ll wash your hair.”

Kael grimaced up at him and wiped the back of his mouth with his arm, though it hardly mattered in the constant hot spray from the shower. “Spoilsport.”

“If you want to bed men, be prepared to go to bed _with men_ ,” Rommath warned him as Kael rose to his feet and turned obediently so that he could be washed, “the boys you took to your bed might’ve behaved like your old girlfriends, but not every man will let you walk all over him, even if you _are_ his king. In matters of the heart and bed, men are equals.”

There was no response as he washed his prince. He liked to think that Kael was giving his words thoughtful contemplation, rather than pouting, since he couldn’t see his face, but Kael’thas had always been a spoiled child and Rommath had worked very hard to break him of his habits. Still, he couldn’t deny that at the end of the day he _did_ like Kael, seeing in him a potential for goodness and kindness, if only he could nurture and encourage those traits. Might and majesty weren’t everything.

They broke apart for a moment to grab soap and cloth to scrub down their grubby bodies, an awkward motion of elbows and knees and feet brought up for tricky balance, but came together once more when they were clean and pink and smelling like deep woods and spice. Rommath noticed that Kael’thas had been wavering a bit, yawning more, and put an arm around his prince. “Has the lateness of the hour finally caught up with you?” he teased good-naturedly as he turned off the water and stepped out with him, gathering towels.

“Mmm.” Kael took the towel and clumsily began to dry his hair. Rommath did most of the work for both of them and, with his own rapidly-draining strength, frog-marched the two of them into Kael’thas’ master bedroom. He poured the prince into a sleeping robe and tucked him in, jealous of the now-snoring boy as he folded the blankets gently. The sky was not yet beginning to lighten, but he was really too tired to head back and prepare his own bed, so he just grabbed a spare robe and laid himself out on one of the settees in the large chamber, and closed his eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

Kael’thas was still sleeping by the time Rommath woke up, still early, the sun barely over the horizon. He’d had only a few hours, yet he still couldn’t close his eyes again, too accustomed to early mornings.

“Well, I’m awake…” he muttered to himself as he rose and dressed, performing only a cursory wash to his face before applying his daily cosmetics and robes. Before the prince woke up for the day, he had his own things to do, and headed down to the local farmer’s market to buy some breakfast.

They weren’t too far from the club they’d been at last night, and Rommath very carefully adjusted his collar, the long sleeves helping hide his more distinctive features in the early morning’s slight dip in temperature. It wasn’t quite yet summer, when the heat would become unbearable, and only spells would help relieve the sweltering agony.

“Look out!” a voice came from behind him, and Rommath jerked, but without awareness, couldn’t move in time. Something - someone - tumbled into his back and, flailing, knocked them both down to the pavement.

He spent a moment dazed before a pair of strong hands rolled him over and he found himself looking up into the face of that blond drummer from last night.

“Hey, I’m sorry…” he extended a hand down to Rommath, a sheepish grin on his face. “My buddies can get into a little rough-housing sometimes. You okay?”

The dark-haired mage just stared, and the drummer arched a long eyebrow. “Uh...I didn’t make you hit your head, did I? I don’t see any blood...yoo-hoo, are you awake?” he waved his palm in Rommath’s face.

“I’m fine!” Rommath suddenly snapped, shoving the other man’s hand away and struggling in his long robes to get to his feet, his cheeks as red as the flowing fabric.

“Well, good to hear it.” the blond stepped back and crossed his arms, looking unimpressed and maybe a little hurt. Rommath busied himself with dusting himself off, trying to keep his furtive glances looking like furious ones as he drank in the sight of him: tall, lean and lanky, in fitted jeans and a t-shirt, a faded brown leather jacket over his shoulders. His high tail from last night was gone; instead, his hair was loose, much like Kael’s, flung around his shoulders and back. He wasn’t beautiful, not like Kael was. He wasn’t delicate, like Kael was. One of the man’s eyes had been lost, clearly, and the patch he wore was different from last night’s glamour. Today he just wore a pair of tinted glasses, sunglasses, with one of the lenses completely blacked out.

Rommath hadn’t realized they’d been staring at each other for almost a full minute until the drummer suddenly blinked at him and taken another step towards him.

“Hey, wait a minute. Didn’t - I think I saw you last night! Did you come to our show?” he grinned, his face lighting up, and Rommath froze, his heart thrumming in his throat like a wild bird. “Yeah, I think you did! You looked really hot in that shirt...uh...that guy you were with...was he, uh, your boyfriend?”

Well, at least he was forward, even if he wasn’t too perceptive. “No, just a...I hesitate to call him a ‘friend’.” Rommath managed, mouth dry. “More like an annoying boy I put up with.”

“Hah! Well, good on you for helping out, huh? Anyway, uh, listen…” he came in closer, and Rommath could smell his soap, cheap hotel soap, one of the nearby inns for certain. “Wanna grab some breakfast together?”

He should’ve said no.

He should’ve shook his head and turned and left, walked away, even politely if he could (or if he couldn’t). He should’ve cast a spell or reached for his hearthstone or _anything_ else.

Anything other than the breathy _yes_ that slipped from his lips.

The drummer grinned, stepping forward and boldly sliding his muscled arm behind Rommath’s waist. “Cool,” he nodded, and began leading him towards one of the stalls selling fresh bread. “Oh, by the way - my name is Lor’themar. Most of my buddies are still back at the hotel. We’re on tour right now, but we’ll be in town the rest of the week. We could do this again, if you like...what’s your name?”

“R...Rom.” he just gave it, short. If Lor’themar wasn’t a local, he wouldn’t know much about the comings and goings of the royal family. Other people would recognize him, but most were too polite and too refined to point it out, especially if they saw him out in public with anyone other than the prince.

“Rom. Sounds good.” he rolled his shoulder, bringing Rommath a bit closer to his side, and he was _so warm_ , it was hard for Rommath to concentrate on walking. Thankfully the stall was only a few more steps away, and Lor’themar managed to order for both of them.

They took their breakfast beside a nearby fountain, Rommath daintily refined, Lor’themar casual, legs akimbo, tearing off bites of his breakfast sandwich and chewing with the side of his mouth as he talked. He had a peculiar accent - Rommath had an ear for such things, and he could tell that it _could_ have been noble, in his youth, but it was almost harshly altered. Perhaps it was part of his stage persona.

“Did you like the music?” Lor’themar talked with his mouth full, which made Rommath’s stomach turn over, but it was so full of butterflies at this point that he almost welcomed the little return to earth.

“It was...interesting.” he edged. “I wouldn’t normally call it my cup of tea, but my...friend...wanted to come and see your band perform, and I can’t say I wasn’t enjoying myself.” It wasn’t a _complete_ lie, after all.

“We do other material too.” Lor’themar assured him, nodding. “Listen, we’re performing in a different place tonight, not a dance club. If you want to come see us, I can put you on the guest list and you can hang out with us in the green room if you want...if that’s something you’d be cool with?”

He agreed without thinking, and Lor’themar pulled out his phone, clearly texting someone, while Rommath’s stomach suddenly began to churn. What if Kael had plans for the night? It wasn’t as though he could call in sick! A thousand things raced through his mind, staring down at his empty hands, feeling cold and dizzy, frenetic, frantic -

 _Warm, wonderfully soft lips on his_.

Lor’themar was kissing him, and oh it was _so_ different from Kael’s clumsy, overly-wet, passionate macking. Despite the fact that they were both eating, Lor’themar had mercifully swallowed everything in his mouth before pulling him in for the kiss. Rommath could feel the spray from the fountain at this distance, but didn’t care at all; Lor’themar was just so _warm_ and inviting, exciting and calming all at the same time. Drummers were all muscle, arms and legs, and he was being _held_ and every dominant streak of his personality was silenced by the strong arms around him. Everything about him was made ordinary and foolish by this.

He was just another man in love, today.


	4. Chapter 4

Fingering the edges of his skirt nervously, Rommath stepped up to the guard at the door, checking tickets.

“One for the guest list. Rom.” he breathed, quietly, and the man looked at his clipboard before nodding.

“Go on through. Green room is at the very end of the hallway on your left.” he gestured, and Rommath took a breath before stepping inside. The place was mostly quiet - not a punk club, clearly a more upscale joint, with a well-lit floor and crystal blue lights above the bar on either side, lined with high stools. There was a stage at the end, but Rom ignored it as he walked further down the hallway towards a door marked PRIVATE.

He paused to check himself in a reflective panel on the wall. He’d gone with a look that he hoped didn’t scream ‘upper-class prostitute’. Black high heels (once more enchanted to feel and be secure as flats), partially-translucent black stockings, and a red dress that crested just above his knees, dipping low off his shoulders. He wore matching red lipstick and had his hair twisted back in an elegant style, with trails hanging over the front of his shoulders.

A few more steps and he had reached the door. With butterflies in his stomach and feeling light-headed, he gripped the knob, turned, and _pushed_.

The chatter inside the room didn’t stop, but a few people turned their heads. “Rom!” a voice exclaimed, and the familiar figure of Lor’themar strode across the room to greet him with a huge grin. “Good to see you. Wow, you look gorgeous tonight!” he closed the door, sweeping Rommath into the room and tucking an arm around his waist. “Come sit down with me. We’re just relaxing. Can I get you anything? We have wine, beer, soda…”

“Just some ice water, maybe…” He settled on the couch, delicately crossing his legs at the ankle and looking around. Lor’themar got up, and Rom took the opportunity to glance at the other band members. If they made eye contact, they politely nodded a greeting, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge him. Some of them had pretty girls on their knee already; Rommath felt his cheeks colour under his make-up. _Do the others think I’m a whore? I’m dressed like one...I should’ve worn pants! But...but he likes this, doesn’t he? Doesn’t he want me to dress like this?_

His racing mind was calmed when Lor’themar sat down beside him again with a plastic cup filled with water and ice cubes. He took a sip, his lipstick leaving a red print on the rim. “Thank you. It’s warm in here.”

“No problem.” Lor’themar smiled and leaned back, putting his arms behind his head. Rommath glanced at him, trying not to stare: he had his hair pulled back from his face in that elegant high-tail again, showing off the length of his ears and those beautiful cheekbones. He wore a patch over his eye instead of the blacked-out sunglasses, and the texture was the same as his leather pants. He wore a loose white shirt, making him look like a pirate, or some sort of hero on the cover of those swooning Steamy Romance novels. Rommath tried very hard not to let it settle in his dick. “I’m looking forward to you seeing us perform tonight,” he grinned. “Believe it or not, I’ve never brought a girl backstage before.”

The hair went up on the back of Rommath’s neck. _The dress was definitely a mistake then_. “I’m...not a girl.” he said, delicately.

“I...oh. Oh, I thought you were.” Lor’themar blinked. Their conversation was low enough not to be heard in the room, and Rommath eyed the door in case he had to leave quickly.

“You honestly thought I was a woman?” Rommath replied, bringing his ice water cup down his chest - his _demonstratively_ flat chest - and arched an eyebrow.

“Well, no. I figured you had, y’know, you were born a boy, but...I thought you were, uh, I thought you wanted to be _seen_ as a woman, um, what’s the word...”

“I’m not transitioning,” Rommath relaxed a little bit. _Oh._ “I just…” _I don’t_ really _like wearing dresses, I just thought it was expected of me…_ “I didn’t know if you’d recognize me if I came in pants,” he decided to tease Lor’themar, trying to retain the upper hand.

Lor’themar laughed, easily and clearly, and Rommath’s stomach was full of butterflies again. “I’m only half-blind, Rom, not completely blind.” he tucked a long finger under Rom’s chin and tugged his face closer. “You look gorgeous in the dress, but you didn’t have to wear it on my account. Besides…” he pushed past Rommath’s cheek, lips brushing against his ear, “ _It_ _’s going to look best on my hotel room floor, anyway._ ”

Well, there went his effort to _not_ get a boner. Rommath fought the urge to dump the remains of his ice water on his groin in order to make it go away, and instead settled for quickly settling his hands there, the cup between them, the coolness a welcome temperature change from the throbbing, insistent heat below.

Thankfully, someone poked Lor’themar and they gave the five-minute warning, and everything got very busy all at once. Rommath and the other girls made their way to the stools at the bars, on either side of the stage, as dancers began to move on the floor. The band came on to cheers and laughter, and as they began to play, Rommath decided that he did, after all, like their music. It was happy, buzzing, and he found himself tapping his toe on the barstool as couples danced on the floor together. It was much more upscale than the hot, sweaty, gross club from last night, and he found he rather liked the atmosphere.

He ordered a proper drink from the bartender, tipped well, and enjoyed himself as he watched the lead singer and guitarist dancing around on stage, and Lor’themar keeping it tight with his drumming, fast and controlled. The thought of those strong arms around him, those hands on his body, and the shivered promise of his dress being discarded on some hotel floor later tonight...Rommath crossed his legs the other way and did his best to hide his reaction from the crowd.

Sooner than he could believe, it was over. Lor’themar and the others were coming off and getting drinks, roadies were packing up the stage, and the drummer had taken his hand, “Let’s be off, shall we?”, and he was walking through the chilly night air up the street from the club with Lor’themar’s warm behind his back, keeping him firmly in place. Every fibre of his being, every bone in his body, every drop of his blood was chanting _yes, yes, yes,_ absolutely no hesitation, no trepidation at this, no reason to suspect anything or pull back.

Lor’themar’s kisses started soft and sweet, and got harder and harder by the time they made it to the band’s hotel, and when they got into the elevator, Rommath found himself slammed up against the side, with the blond elf pressing biting kisses down the column of his throat. His erection was back in full force for the third time that night, aching by now, rubbing uncomfortably against the tight fabric of his red dress. Lor’themar palmed that bulge, rubbing it up and down, grinning at him, and Rom _whined,_ thrusting up into his hand, bracing himself on the railing around the middle of the elevator, watching his reflection in the mirrored glass on all sides.

_I look like a whore_.

He didn’t feel like one. He felt like a treasured thing as Lor’themar kissed him again, pulled him from the box as the elevator _ding_ ed open on their floor, being swept from the rug and he laughed breathlessly as the drummer carried him in his arms, bridal-style, one of his shoes almost falling off as they careened down the hallway. They had to stop so Lor’themar could get the door open, but as soon as they were inside, with the door bolted and locked, he was being kissed again, so hot and so well that he was almost, _almost_ , coming in his pants like a horny teenager.

They didn’t even make it to the bed. Lor’themar hauled Rommath onto the dresser, kneeling before him and taking off the high heels, tossing them vaguely behind him, then crept up and slowly began to pull down the stockings. Rommath whined, whimpering and squirming, and Lor’themar kissed the inside of his calf once the skin was exposed. “Shh,” he smiled, “save your voice for later...don’t want you to lose it now, do you?” Rommath nodded quickly, his breath coming in quivering gasps. “Good.”

The stocking joined his heels and Lor’themar was easing him forward, letting the dress ride up on its own as Rommath was tugged towards the edge of the dresser. They both watched as Rommath’s cock sprang free, bobbing out from under the edge of the tight red fabric, and Rom couldn’t help but let out a little cry as Lor’themar licked his lips hungrily, watching it with his piercing eye.

“You look so delicious…” he leaned in, wrapping his lips around the head. Rommath made needy, keening noises in the back of his throat, his hands scrabbling on the top of the dresser, awkwardly half-thrusting up into the drummer’s mouth. He couldn’t get steady though, and Lor’themar pushed him down, keeping him deliriously off-balance. One hand on the wallpaper behind him, the other found its way into Lor’themar’s hair, fisting that glorious high-tail, pulling and yanking and pushing and hearing the man between his legs groaning as he swallowed. That deliciously tight, wet heat closed around him even further, making Rommath nearly hiccough with pleasure as he jerked, feeling Lor’themar’s slippery tongue slide up and down, up to the head, teasing his slit.

“Please _please_ ** _please_** I’m going to come!” Rommath gasped, unable to catch his breath or stop the movement of his hips, “ _Oh_ I’m going to come, I’m going to _come_ , I’m going to come, don’t stop!” he thrashed back and forth, finally snapping with a wail, arching up off the wall and desk, legs kicking in the air uselessly as he came _hard_ , pumping his release into Lor’themar’s throat, the sweet suction as the drummer continued making his eyes roll back into his head. “ _Unnnghhh…_ ”

Before he could finish recovering, focus again, Lor’themar was unzipping the back of his dress and peeling hit off of him. Rommath was shaking and trembling with an intensity that prevented him from helping at all, though he loved the sensation of those massive hands all over him, manhandling him a little. He felt himself being lifted off the dresser and moved to the bed, feeling the pillows behind him as he settled.

Lor’themar was kissing him again, with less frantic-ness but no less passion, over and over, until he finally pulled back to strip out of all his own clothes. Finally they were both naked, and suddenly Rommath felt a change as the drummer’s skin pressed against his, body-to-body. Everything was slowing down, becoming more intense, and he was aware of his entire form as he’d never been before. Every inch of skin, every limb. Lor’themar was kissing him all over, and by what magic was this that he could feel those lips _everywhere_? He was the most powerful mage in the city, and Lor’themar had said nothing about any powers. No, he was an elf, just like Rommath, an ordinary elf...yet so, so much more.

They kissed, lips and tongues meeting, and Lor’themar was cupping his cheeks and stroking his face, and Rommath was gliding his hands down the drummer’s muscled, strong back, feeling like a man again as he groaned under Lor’themar’s weight. They were rocking together, grinding up and down at the same time, and his head was spinning in the most pleasant way. He ached when Lor’themar rolled off of him, getting up on his elbows, but the drummer had just gone for some supplies. He crawled back onto the bed, kissing him in apology.

“Condom?” he breathed into Rommath’s mouth as they kissed.

“Oh…!” he blinked in surprise. “Oh, um, sure…” he hadn’t at all expected that. He sat up a little more and watched as Lor’themar made a show of opening the little package and sliding it on. _How can a man make a prophylactic look like a damned sex toy?!_ He reached for the lubricant and Rommath grabbed a pillow, putting it under his hips as Lor’themar began to ease him open. Those long, strong fingers inside him were making him melt with pleasure, one, then two. He pressed up with ease and practise into Rommath’s prostate, making him jolt off the bed with sensation, the sweat making the rest of him as slick as his ass now was.

Once both of them panted out their agreement that they were ready, Lor’themar palmed his cock and pumped himself a few times inside the condom, before guiding his cock to Rommath’s hole and slowly, frustratingly, achingly slowly, pushing inside.

Rommath had had other lovers in the past. He actively told himself this, as he was laid out flat by the sensation of being so opened up on Lor’themar’s cock. He was even sure he’d had _bigger_ lovers than the drummer currently mere inches inside of him, but by _heaven_ he had never had someone like this before. He was so, so full, and it was _perfect_ , and Lor’themar was moving _just right,_ and he couldn’t _breathe_ it was so damn good, and Lor’themar was kissing him, and he was kissing back (was he kissing back? He couldn’t tell, but his lips were moving) and _moaning_ (and if he was moaning, he was breathing after all) and wrapping his arms around Lor’themar all over again. One of his legs was around Lor’themar’s, but the other was up on his back, and the angle was awkward and perfect at the same time as Lor’themar thrust, and thrust, and _thrust_ into him, legs spread for balance on the bed, feeling their weight shifting together, the pillow under his hips keeping him tilted up and open, open for his lover to push and _push_ inside him, and it was so good, so, _so_ good. Even his teeth were aching, it was so good. Everything inside him _hurt_ and felt wonderful and indescribable at the same time. Lor’themar was whispering something in between kisses, and his voice drifted to Rommath’s ears; “...so good, baby, so _good_ , oh fuck you’re so _tight_ , I can’t believe...so hot, you’re so hot...taking my cock so good, keep going...can feel you...inside you’re so...I didn’t know…”

Either Lor’themar stopped making sense or Rommath stopped listening, because the roar of blood in his ears was all he can hear, the pulse of his heart beating, and Lor’themar’s beating with him, and he could swear that even through the condom he could feel the pulse of Lor’themar’s cock. They were moving together, and he was being filled up, and he knew he _must_ be breathing, but he couldn’t tell. Every feeling was the most intense thing he’d ever felt, every thrust felt like the beginning and the end of the world. He felt _connected_ like he’d never been connected before, like he and Lor’themar were _one_ , moving together as the same being, lost in passion and touch and pleasure. He could see both of their orgasms coming from a mile away it seemed, like a train on a track, a light at the end, and they were approaching together, together, and Lor’themar cried out, and he was yelling, and they were both _coming_ , and he didn’t know how he could tell (that condom should’ve been something? It was still there!) but he knew they were, and he was coming, hot and sticky pulses between their bellies, his cock rubbing between them, and Lor’themar was grinding into his ass, growling and snapping, grunting, sweat dripping down on to his face and chest, and Rommath closed his eyes and _melted_ as Lor’themar melted into him, as they both moved together, tumbling over over, without moving a muscle or budging an inch.

It went on for years, it went on for mere moments, and then Rommath was asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Rommath woke up slowly, feeling the comfortable weight of Lor’themar still snuggled tightly to him, and he closed his eyes, tracing over the side of the drummer’s face. The other elf snorted a little, tugging Rommath even closer, pressing them both into each other, and he wondered idly what the hell had happened last night. It was...beyond intense. It was the most powerfully erotic and astounding thing he’d ever experienced. 

“Lor’themar?” he murmured, trying to wake up the blond. After another snort or two, Lor’themar was blinking into conscienceless. 

“Mmm? Huh, morning.” he yawned, squeezing him tighter, not letting go. “You okay?” 

“A little sore.” he glanced to the side of the bed; the condom was tied up and hanging off the side of the garbage can; clearly Lor’themar had been more conscious at the end than he had been. “But…” 

“But it was the most amazing thing you’ve ever done?” Lor’themar asked lazily. Rommath’s head snapped around to peer at him eyes narrowed. The drummer wasn’t smirking or laughing; instead, he looked surprised and serious. “It was, for me. And before you ask, no, I don’t say that to all the ladies. Or men. Whatever.” he brushed a finger over Rommath’s shoulder, tracing the runic tattoos there. “I’m not trying to brag or anything, but holy fuck, that was incredible. I never knew it could be like that, could feel like that.” 

Rommath’s cheeks were hot at the implication, but he stayed still. “Oh. Well...yes. Yes, it was.” he managed, nodding. “To be honest, it’s never been like that for me before, either.” 

“I knew there was somethin’ special about you.” Lor’themar yawned, leaning in to kiss him again, and Rommath wrinkled his nose.  _ Morning breath, yuck...hmmm… _ despite only having recently woken up, Lor’themar’s mouth tasted good. Well, not great, but not nearly as disgusting as he’d feared. They kissed for a few more minutes before Lor’themar sighed. “I guess we should get up...I mean, at some point, I have to check out of the hotel with my bandmates.” 

Rommath’s heart panged. He silenced it. He had no time to actually fall in love, not with the full-time babysitting he was doing for -

_ Kael has been outside of my care for twelve hours _ . It was a horrifying thought. He’d already told Anastarian he needed the night off for an event, and the king had granted him that, so he wasn’t in trouble for sneaking off, but Kael could’ve gotten into  _ anything  _ in his abcense. He groaned, rubbing his hand over his face as he and Lor’themar sat up, turning in opposite directions. 

Even with his back turned, he could see and hear and smell and  _ taste _ Lor’themar perfectly, and it almost caused him physical pain to stand and walk - well, wobble really - away, to try and grab his things from last night. The shoes he morphed into a pair of flat slip-ons, and with a flick of his wrist the dress became long, plain robes. No walk of shame for the most skilled mage in all of Quel’thelas. 

“Can I see you again?” Lor’themar blurted out from behind him. Rommath paused, adjusting his robe, then turned back towards him. He was beautiful, still half-tangled in the sheets, like a work of art. His hair was everywhere, a beautiful mess, covering his blinded eye in a moment of perfect magic. “I want to see you again.” he rephrased, his eyebrow raised, his lips open, parted, red from kissing and biting. 

Rommath shifted from foot to foot, awkward. “I can’t, not really. This night off was extremely rare. I’m, er, a full-time caregiver for someone who desperately needs my help. As lovely as last night was, it probably can’t happen again.” 

He watched as Lor’themar’s ears wilted. In the morning light he could see a myriad of scars crisscrossing the drummer’s otherwise perfectly-sculpted, elegant body. Before his life of music, he must have been a soldier. “Oh.” 

“I promise; it’s the nature of my work, and not you.” something inside Rommath was fighting to get out, a feeling he promised himself he’d never feel again, something he thought was long since dead and buried. “You were wonderful. You were  _ perfect _ .” 

“And yet, there you go.” Lor’themar said quietly. “I’m not asking you to come tour with me, Rom. All I want to know is can I count on seeing you again in Silvermoon when we finish the tour? I  _ do  _ live here, I wanna...I wanna be with you. I know that might sound crazy after just one night, but…” 

Rommath closed his eyes. His head swam. His body was chanting for him to stay, to disrobe, to let Lor’themar worship him with kisses and stay forever as one, but he quashed it firmly. He didn’t have time for love. Not now. Not anymore. 

“Look, maybe I’ll see you again after you come back.” he sighed, opening his eyes again.  _ Dammit, don’t look so hopeful _ . “How long is your tour?” 

“Just one more week. We’re almost done. We have a few stops and then we’re back next Friday.” Lor’themar smiled, and his smile was beautiful, and Rommath’s heart broke. “We could have lunch next weekend if you’re free!” 

“I’m never free,” he said, and it wasn’t quite the truth, but it felt like it. Still… “we could have breakfast on Saturday morning.” Kael usually slept in during the mornings, so as long as he was back by nine, no one would find out. 

“That sounds perfect!” Lor’themar stretched and slid out of the bed, and Rommath had to physically stop himself from going over and climbing that perfect body again like a tree. He had the most magnificent ass and in proper lighting, even his soft dick hung massive between his thighs. He was hairy, but not too much, that soft platinum brushed over his lower belly and down his thighs to his calves. Just enough to make him a man, but not enough to make him an animal. He was so different from Kael, he was everything Rommath wanted and more, everything he’d always known he wanted, and everything he’d never known he’d needed. 

“I’ll bring food from the kitchens and meet you at the fountain in the square at seven on Saturday morning.” Rommath offered, putting his hair up and back, a hairpin conjured in his mouth. 

“Seven? So early.” Lor’themar sprawled out on the bed again on his back, his hair shining like the sun as he grinned up at Rommath from upside-down where he lay. It took all of Rommath’s effort not to crawl on top of him and ride his cock until the drummer begged him to stop. “Wait, kitchens? Where do you work, again?” 

A cold knot cannonballed into Rommath’s stomachs. “I, uh, work at the palace,” he blurted out, not sure why he was suddenly compelled to tell the truth, or at least part of it. Lor’themar’s eye kept boring into him. 

“Oh, well, but you said you’re a caretaker? As far as I know, the royals don’t have any children - wait, Prince Sunstrider doesn’t have any children yet, does he?!” his eye widened. 

Rommath took one step back, two, and then his back hit the dresser and he flailed, regaining his balance as he quickly finished pinning back his hair. “No, he doesn’t, not if I have to lock him in his rooms to prevent him from doing so!” 

“You...you look after the prince? The King has you chasing after his son all day? Oh...do I feel sorry for you!” Lor’themar sat up, shaking his head. Then his eye went wide. “Oh,  _ shit _ , was that him the other night? With you, at the show?” his face was growing pale, and Rommath’s stomach lurched again, feeling like he was going to throw up. “You two were -” 

“I would rather it be with me than with any man who looks his way,” Rommath panted, throat slick, mouth dry. “That boy has no sense of self-awareness and no common sense. I let him do...things. Things I don’t like, things I’m not proud of. But Anastarian  _ trusts  _ me, and knows I will get him ready for the throne.” 

Was that... _ pity?  _ “You let him…” Lor’themar gets up, coming towards him, and Rommath swallows, and he can’t move, and Lor’themar puts his hands on Rommath’s cheeks and then down to his shoulders and around his back, pulling him into a tight embrace. After a moment, his own arms come up and he hugs, he  _ hugs _ , and waves of emotion crash over him. He never thought of Kael’s actions as  _ rape  _ and he certainly still didn’t, but it was still so many things he’d just done, just taken, just swallowed and buried and pretended it didn’t bother him, pretended it didn’t matter. 

“I don’t want to live like this,” his throat burned, and the arms around him tightened. Rommath closed his eyes and cling to Lor’themar like the naked man was a life preserver and he was adrift, lost on the ageless sea. 

“It doesn’t matter to me, how you live,” Lor’themar whispered fiercely, and Rommath could tell that he meant it, every word. “As long as you are living with what  _ you  _ want, I’m good, I’m happy, we can do it. We can manage. I want you to be happy, okay? I want you to be happy.” 

Rommath buried his face in Lor’themar’s neck and breathed in deeply.  _ When had he started crying?  _ He was going to be okay. It was all going to be okay. 

He would  _ make  _ it okay. 


End file.
